


to be here or there or anywhere

by andibeth82



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, Babies, Christmas, F/M, Family Feels, Flash Sideways 'Verse, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he feels like he should be making a list of all the things he’s getting to do, things that he thought they would do if they got off the Island like he once promised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to be here or there or anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> James and Juliet have a baby and James has feelings. Christmas-y post for Christmas-y times in the Sideways verse, after the awakening. Use your judgement on before or after the church, it could fit in both scenarios and I like giving people free reign of timelines sometimes.

He gets used to it after awhile - the way the cars hum on the street, the way the dishwasher rattles when it gets too full, the way the air conditioner sounds during the summer (the way it clicks on and off at intervals, usually around two or three in the morning.) And it takes awhile, but he even gets used to the way she crawls into bed (here its right leg first but on the Island it was always left leg, something he only realized the night after they moved in together.)  
  
They live this life the way he supposes they would have lived any other life, with the exception of a few days out of the week when David comes over because David is Jack’s kid and _you had a kid with Jack_ he remembers saying one day before she had shot him one of her best death stares (and it was strangely comforting to know that even in whatever life or afterlife they’re living, she still hadn’t lost her touch of being able to shut him up with a subtle facial expression.)  
  
“So what, James? What did you do before all this?”  
  
Thing is, he can’t really argue when she asks that question because he hadn’t done much of anything. A date with Charlotte, the closest that he had probably come to something that could have been decent (at least, before he lost his temper and threw her out.) Other than that, a lot of failed one night stands and general refusals to meet anyone of the opposite sex and so she had a kid with Jack, what did it matter in the end? They had a baby (he realizes one day while helping her chop apples for a fruit bowl, _they had a baby_.)  
  
And it ain’t like James hasn’t ever seen or held a baby. But Julian and Aaron, they were never his, not really. Even Clementine, well…he had missed most of that first by his own decision, then by the good grace of crash landing in the middle of nowhere. And sure, she was still young by the time he finally worked up the courage to get his ass over to Cassidy and re-introduce himself back into her life, but it wasn’t the same thing as having a kid that would grow up saying his name, that would forever know him as dad or daddy as opposed to “the man who took care of you for awhile” or “the guy who got me knocked up.”  
  
He remembers the day they came home from the hospital, the day Juliet casually mentioned _“she has your eyes”_ and he had tucked the blanket tighter around his daughter’s sleeping body in response, swallowing down pressure and fear and everything that he thought he left behind in _that_ world (because, hell, she was right – she did have his eyes.) He remembers the first time he held her and how Juliet pointed out that they were this, now - a family.  
  
And he remembers how that word made him feel.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The first time she drove in a car (an actual car, not one of those light blue vans she knew like the back of her hand) and strapped herself in while sliding on designer sunglasses, that was weird.  
  
The first time she came home with a bag of groceries (modern day groceries without the black and white of DHARMA’s label), propositioning some kind of meal of that involved pot roast and steak - things they never had the time to make on the Island - that was weird.  
  
The first time they went to the movies (an actual movie theatre, not DHARMA’s rec hall with its fifteen inch black and white screen) and ordered soft drinks and popcorn, that was weird.  
  
And even though he still looks for the DHARMA cereal boxes every now and again, even though he still half expects to find a pair of dark blue legs sticking out from underneath their car when he comes home, he can deal with getting used to modern day groceries and going to the movies and driving a 2007 Toyota Camry. But this is just about the strangest thing he’s done so far in his afterlife (whatever life), taking his kid to a shopping mall just so she can sit on Santa’s lap and sometimes he feels like he should be making a list of all the things he’s getting to do, things that he thought they would do if they got off the Island like he once promised.  
  
 _Marriage, check._  
  
 _Baby of their own, check._  
  
 _Family holiday photo, check._  
  
Ellie cries in the backseat as they drive, loud wails that quiet to sniffling sobs when James reaches back to put a hand on her knee. He taps one foot restlessly against the floor of the car as Juliet steers into a vacant spot.  
  
“See? She’s cryin’. Don’t wanna do this anymore than we do.”  
  
“Anymore than _you_ do,” Juliet says pointedly with a roll of her eyes. She shoves the gear into park and leans forward, pushing a hand through her hair. “Look. I know the holidays never meant the same to you as they did to me. I _know_ , James. I just think…” She pauses, trailing off as her gaze drifts to the rear view mirror where Ellie is pushing a foot into her mouth. “I just think things are different here, and this is important. For however long we’re stuck.”  
  
 _For however long we’re stuck._ He thinks about that day on the sub, about things that never came to be because they both thought nothing would ever change and wonders if in this afterlife (whatever life), she and Jack did something like this with David. But there are no pictures of Jack in her house, only pictures of Juliet and now, pictures of Juliet and James and Ellie. Turning his gaze, he slides a hand across her leg.  
  
“Yeah. I know.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
The mall is overly crowded and _of course it is_. James always hated the week before Christmas, mostly because he inevitably waited far too long before buying anyone’s gift (in that life, in this life), which meant that he was forced to deal with the madness. They steer through throngs of people, weaving in and out of harried looking parents and loud teenagers and at some point he realizes he’s holding Ellie a little too tightly. His daughter doesn’t seem to mind, too entranced by the multitude of lights and decorations but Juliet notices the way his knuckles turn white around her smaller body and gently eases her arm into his in a way that says everything and nothing all at once.  
  
(It’s comforting to know in this afterlife - whatever life - she’s still got his back.)  
  
“We should get her a dollhouse this year,” James mutters under his breath as they approach the Santa line, already peppered with crying babies and screaming toddlers. Juliet gives him a look and he shrugs, knows there’s about a one percent chance that Ellie will actually understand his sentence but he can just see it now, the fact that he’s ruined his daughter’s first real Christmas by opening his big mouth.  
  
“I think that would be good. And maybe a few other toys.” She carefully threads her fingers through Ellie’s hair. “I mean, it’s just going to be us. I don’t need a whole fanfare of people and presents.”  
  
 _Just us._ He shifts his weight, glancing up at the colored lights strung across the roof of the mall and the words come out before he can stop them.  
  
“You ever do the Christmas thing with Jack? I mean, before all this?”  
  
Juliet tilts her head, as if she’s not quite sure what to make of his question and pushes her lips into a slight frown. “Yeah. We did. Not too often, we were both always working when David was born so that made it hard. But after that…a few times.” She chews the inside of her lip and he doesn’t know why he feels so strange asking random questions about Jack, about a life that she didn’t even realize she was supposed to _not_ be living until they were course corrected by an Apollo bar and a vending machine. Maybe it’s because she never seems to return his inquiries with questions about his own former life, almost as if she feels she doesn’t need to know about what did or didn’t happen. And, well (James reasons) what did it matter in the end?  
  
 _They had a baby._  
  
He starts to lose track of how many kids have come before him in the fast moving line but eventually, the crowds thin and he can clearly see and hear the cheery laughs, the flash of photographs. For some reason, he starts to feel strange all over again and digs one toe into the ground, scuffing his boot against the floor.  
  
“You know, maybe we can –"  
  
“James.” Her voice is a quiet drone among the cacophony and he stops, letting out a sigh while Ellie reaches for his hair.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The mall Santa is everything James expects him to be – smiling and rotund, decked out in the usual suit with the usual surroundings of over-the-top decorations. For a brief moment he has a flash of memory, an image of Miles dressing up for the annual LAPD Christmas party while James threatened to hold the resulting pictures hostage for blackmail purposes.  
  
 _I’m a cop._ Well, he _was_ a cop. At some point.  
  
(Maybe.)  
  
Juliet leads him forward, hands tightly entwined, while James helps place Ellie on one knee. She shoves her hands together with a laugh and the grin that ensues is so genuine, he can’t help but smile at the sight. _They had a baby._  
  
“And what can I get you this year?”  
  
“A dollhouse,” Juliet supplies, bending down to brush a curl of blonde from her forehead. “And maybe a Barbie.” She winks above Ellie’s head and now they’re both looking at James, who tightens his fingers around her hand.  
  
“And what do mom and dad want?”  
  
He very nearly laughs out loud in response because it’s the most ironic and loaded question he feels could be asked at the moment. What does he want? _What do I want?_ He wants someone to tell him why he feels so uncomfortable about this whole thing because quite frankly, there’s no damn reason for it. They’re together. _They have a baby._ He wakes up every morning and she’s _not_ dead, she’s _not_ lying at the bottom of some hole broken and bloody and alone like he dreamed for so many nights afterwards. They’re together and she’s real and he’s basically living the life he would have handpicked for himself if his sorry ass had any kind of choice back in 1977, before things went to shit.  
  
“Mom and dad have everything they want.” Juliet finally speaks, side-eying James with a small grin. She presses a hand into his back as the photographer readies himself to take the picture, and James feels his eyes sting at the sound of her words.  
  
“We got lucky this year."  
  
  
***  
  
  
He waits until they’re back in the car, out of the mall and away from the crowds before opening the package. Two fingers hesitantly slide the glossy 8x10 out of its cardboard pocket while his thumb trails over the edge, over the green mistletoe and blue ornaments that dot the surroundings of the frame (James and Juliet on each side, Ellie in the center.) He’s still staring when she puts her hand on his shoulder, fingers joining his along the edge of the portrait.  
  
“You ever think about all this?”  
  
“Think about what?” There’s a hint of tiredness grazing her voice, as if the question is something they’ve talked about too many times except they’ve never talked about it. And maybe that’s the problem, James thinks, only now realizing how strange his hand feels as he presses it against his chin (it was only last week that he shaved off the remnants of his beard, after he noticed that Ellie seemed to take to him better when his face was smooth.)  
  
“This.” James motions to the car, gesturing back towards his daughter. “I mean, not us because I know...” He pauses, suddenly unsure of how to explain himself. “It’s just. Everythin’ else. How do we know this is real?” _How do I know that one day this won’t all disappear, like some goddamn time travel reset? Because yeah, that happened once, and sorry if I’m still a little unnerved._  
  
Juliet shoots him a look as she pushes the keys into the ignition, but the emotion behind her eyes is gentler than the expression on her face.  
  
“This is real, James.”  
  
“Sure, and I was a cop.” (There’s that look again.)  
  
“That was real, too.” She pulls out of the parking spot and Ellie’s singing to herself in the back seat, a string of words that don’t really make sense but somehow the sound of her voice is strangely comforting and _they had a baby._ James closes his eyes against the movement of the car.  
  
“Guess it was."  
  
  
***  
  
  
They find a spare frame in the attic (leftover from one of David’s old school photos) and Juliet hangs the picture, positioning it just above the fireplace while James reads on the couch. Ellie notices the shiny new decoration almost immediately upon waking from her nap and James lifts her up once she starts to flail animatedly, supporting her against his arm as he carefully steps over the multitude of toys littering the floor of the living room.  
  
“You wanna see, dontcha?”  
  
He moves closer and Ellie reaches out as James smiles, takes her small fingers in his big ones. He moves her hand over Juliet’s face, over his own face, and suddenly he’s back in Miami, 2007 and post one month of getting off the Island, pointing out pictures to Julian from Rachel’s photo album while feeling both proud and guilty at the same time.  
  
 _“That’s your aunt…that’s Juliet…”_  
  
James shakes his head against the memory that seems like years ago and yesterday all at the same time and lowers Ellie back to the couch, rubbing a hand against her back. He watches the way she pushes small hands against the pillows, the way her fingers intricately trace the designs of the fabric and _they had a baby_. As if reading his thoughts, Ellie looks up and smiles widely, displaying two tiny teeth in the back of her mouth.  
  
“You should read to her.”  
  
Juliet’s voice is quiet as she walks across he room, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. In that singular moment, she reminds him so much of 1977 and that damn yellow house that his uncomfortably nostalgic feelings suddenly turn to intense sensations of pain. He averts his eyes and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.  
  
“I dunno, she just got up, and –“  
  
Juliet cuts him off by pressing her lips against his and when she pulls back, she’s smiling in a way that lights up her entire face.  
  
“Read to her, James.”  
  
He doesn’t break her stare as he reaches for the book on the coffee table, fingers hesitantly flipping to an open page and it’s only when she gently eases Ellie into his arms that he finally looks down, lets his eyes dance over the words. The baby shifts slightly when she retracts her hands and after a brief moment of movement, turns and buries her face into the bare skin of his chest.  
  
Juliet puts one hand on his arm.  
  
  
-END


End file.
